


Flayed

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Lance, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Langst, M/M, MY BABIES, Protective Keith (Voltron), Whump, flangst, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Lance gets hit with a face full of spores and it leaves him wracked with pain. Touch is the only relief he can find.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 138
Kudos: 982





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dios, ¿por qué duele?” (It hurts. God why does it hurt?)  
> “Odias cuando alguien te toca.” (You hate when someone touches you.)

“Are we done yet?” Lance whines, rifle swinging loosely from his hand. “There’s nothing here.” 

“We’re almost done, just be patient,” Keith reasons. 

Lance snorts and Keith scowls at him. “Can’t we just go back to the lions already? We’ve cleared the area.” Lance tugs irritably on the collar of his suit. “It’s too bloody hot out here for this.” He’s sweating inside his armor and the feeling is not pleasant. 

“What’s that?” Hunk gestures to the mouth of a cave extending out towards the river they’ve been following. 

“We’re not done,” Keith snaps. “If we’re going to set up a colony out here we have to know what the flora and fauna are like and set up necessary defenses for the colonists. Do you really want to just dump them out here in potentially hostile territory?”

Lance tips his head back and groans. “No.” He gathers his bayard in his hands and sets his teeth, doing what Marco had always told him to do and embrace the suck. 

“Fine.” 

“Let’s check out the cave. It’ll be cooler in there,” Keith suggests trying to meet Lance halfway. “We could use a break. Then we’ll head back. We’re at the end of the search perimeter.”

Lance tries not to grumble at the potential olive branch Keith is offering. He’s just hot and tired and hungry and uncomfortable. Not things that put him in a good mood. 

They all step carefully into the mouth of the cave, a number of the plants growing along the walls beginning to glow at their presence. Lance steps closer, examining them, bayard held firmly in his hands. He may not like it but that doesn’t mean he isn’t taking the patrol seriously. 

“Don’t touch them,” Keith warns. “You don’t know if it’s dangerous.” 

Lance snorts but keeps his hands to himself. The plants, whatever they are, appear to be bio-luminescent, something like a cross between a large flower and a mushroom. 

There are five fleshy looking petals, each with little nubs across the surface. They remind Lance of a starfish. The heart of the flower is where the most light is coming from, two lines in each petal leading into the ‘mouth’.

“I think they’re carnivorous,” Lance says idly, studying the plant. 

“What makes you say that?”

Lance is about to explain when there’s a wet slurp, a long tentacle, thick with slime creeping out of a gap in the wall. There are a number of barbs on it, more slime coating the floor.

“Woah!” Hunk jumps back, turning his bayard on it but not firing. 

The tentacle lunges for Hunk and Keith brings up his bayard, slicing it in half. There’s a piercing shriek and the tentacle squirms and flails, throwing blood and slime spattering across Keith’s armor. The material begins to hiss and steam and Keith leaps backwards as two more emerge from the walls like the cave is alive. 

“Get out!” Keith shouts, knocking another tentacle away. “Everybody out!” 

Lance stumbles away from another tentacle, missing the one heading for him from behind. It strikes him hard across the back, throwing him face first into the wall and Lance’s visor shatters. His bayard vanishes in a burst of light as he hits the ground, face first into one of those strange flowers. 

It explodes in a cloud of spores and Lance can’t breathe. He struggles to his feet, half blind as someone throws him from the mouth of the cave, Hunk’s bayard filling the air with noise.

He’s still struggling to drag in a breath, coughing and wheezing, tears streaming down his face as Hunk destroys the cavern, forcing the barbed tentacles back. Stone collapses, the violent shriek cutting off abruptly. Lance claws at the ground. 

He’s boiling in his armor, the oppressive heat worse than before. He can’t think straight, can’t breathe. His skin is blistering inside his suit. He’s suffocating. 

Lance pulls the helmet from his head, gasping for breath and stumbles towards the river, tearing at his armor. Hunk slowly comes to his side, touching his arm and Lance screams at the pressure against his blistering skin. It feels like he’s being flayed and Hunk stumbles backwards, terrified and shocked by the sound that has just torn from his best friend. 

Lance is reeling under the pain. Too hot, it’s too hot. The pressure on his chest is crushing him and he strips blindly out of his suit, gasping and choking. It feels like a layer of his skin peels off with it and he can’t stop screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s burning. 

Hunk tries to touch him again, desperate to offer comfort and Lance scrambles backwards, tripping over his feet in his haste to escape. He slips in the mud and falls into the water, seeking some kind of relief. Anything to cut the heat and pain. A wail is lodged in his throat, escaping in a high pitched whine as he sinks lower. 

The water is frigid but barely takes the edge off the liquid fire in Lance’s veins. All he can do is wrap his arms around himself, nails digging into his skin. He’s trying to keep his melting insides from spilling out, shaking and crying.

Keith slowly creeps closer, one hand extended to placate, to try and keep Lance from running.

“Lance? Can you hear me?”

Lance curls deeper into himself and away from that hand, shaking and terrified. It hurts. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He whines, a strangled sound that cuts Keith to the bone, twisted and desperate with pain. 

It’s so hard to think past the pain and he struggles to form a single word.

“He-lp,” Lance whines, voice thick with fear and so much pain. His fingers are clawing into his own arms, trying to bleed himself of the fire under his skin. He wants to rip the flesh and muscle from the bone, let it scorch itself to ash where he can no longer feel it.

“I don’t know how,” Keith says softly, still crouched on the bank. From what he can see, Lance is perfectly fine. There are no visible wounds on him but he’s shaking, the nails digging into his arms leaving red streaks of raw skin in their wake. He’s flushed but he was red from the heat before. Keith doesn’t know if this is any different. What he does know is Lance is hurting himself. 

“We need to get you back to the castle,” Keith coaxes, shuffling a half step closer, still in a low crouch to be eye level with Lance.

“Into a pod or something. We don’t know what’s wrong.”

Lance shakes his head vehemently, squeezes his eyes closed against the tears. The idea of being in an enclosed space is utterly terrifying and he can’t breathe. He can’t be trapped, can’t be inside. There’s not enough air inside. He shakes his head, wet hair tangling across his forehead, words lodging around a scream in his throat.

“Can you let me touch you?” Keith whispers. “We need to get you out of the water.” 

Lance shakes his head again, chin tucked to his chest, pulling himself into the smallest ball possible. 

Water drips from the ends of his hair and he sinks lower in the current until it’s up over his bare chest. He can’t. If he leaves he’ll burn up. 

“Lance, I’m not going to hurt you,” Keith whispers, dark eyebrows furrowed together. He’s in the water now, the current swirling around his hips and Lance knows he’s close enough to touch him if he really wants to.

Lance is trembling, head still lowered as Keith slips closer. He knows Keith is going to touch him but he doesn’t pull away. Keith’s fingers ghost over Lance’s arm, tentative. The touch is barely there and Lance jerks back on reflex but it’s not pain that washes over him at the contact. It’s relief, cool and instantaneous, chasing the pain from his body.

Everything in him goes loose and pliant and Lance nearly topples sideways into the water with a gasp. Keith grabs him on reflex and Lance immediately surges forward. He nearly knocks Keith over, desperate for relief from the pain, his grip like iron. He’s tearing at Keith’s armor, his helmet, needing skin on skin, needing relief, desperate for more.

Keith makes a noise as Lance rips the helmet from his head, taking several strands of hair with it and tossing it aside. His fingers are scrabbling at the collar of Keith’s undersuit, trying to physically tear it away.

Hunk panics, afraid Lance is trying to hurt him and lunges into the water, trying to pull them apart. Lance screams when Hunk’s hand hits his shoulder and he tears back from the touch. Keith’s grip around his waist keeps him from scrambling back into the water completely and he shudders violently. 

“Don’t touch him!” Keith snaps, pulling Lance into his chest, trying to protect on reflex.

Hunk looks pained but slowly steps back, wringing his hands as Lance tucks himself against Keith, still shaking, hands fumbling at the armor on his chest. 

“Ssh,” Keith hushes, catching Lance’s wrist to stop him. Lance slumps against Keith and cries, shaking with pain. It’s still there, curling and burning under his skin, little needles prickling over his bones like teeth. Keith being close helps but it isn’t enough. 

Every nerve in Lance’s body is on fire. It’s torture and Keith is there, he can help and he’s not letting Lance have that relief he needs. His head is fuzzy with pain.

“...help…” he mumbles, fingers patting uselessly against Keith’s chest plate. “ _Por favor, ayuda._ ”

Keith stares at Lance in surprise, fingers still looped around his wrist. 

The only times he’s ever heard Lance slip into Spanish are when he’s terribly sleep deprived or in pain. That more than anything has him loosening his grip on Lance’s wrists, swiping a tear from his cheek. 

“Okay.” He doesn’t understand what’s happening or what Lance needs. But he has to trust that on some level, Lance does. So Keith lowers his hands, beginning to unbuckle his own vambraces, tossing the plates up onto the bank behind him. Lance’s fingers numbly fumble over the chest plate, finally unbuckling it. The back slaps down into the river behind them and Keith takes the front, throwing it up onto the shore. Lance unzips Keith’s undersuit, stripping it off him to the waist with no hesitation. Keith flushes down to his chest, mortified, but doesn’t stop him.

“Hunk, get back to the castle, tell them what’s happened.” Keith tries not to look at Hunk as Lance slides lower in his lap, pressing them together with a mew of distress, the fevered heat to his skin the only real sign something’s wrong. 

“Do we even know what’s happened?” Hunk asks, eyes flicking between them. 

Keith’s bare hands press flat to Lance’s back and he cries at the contact. 

“No. Which is why I’m not going with you. Lance’s helmet was compromised and now mine’s off. Whatever this is, it’s possible it’s airborne or has to do with those weird flowers we found in the cave. He fell into one face first.

“Whatever happened to Lance could happen to me. If it’s the spores, decontamination should remove them from your suit. Tell the others we’re both to be quarantined here until further notice. We don’t need whatever this is affecting the others.”

“If we had a sample of the plant we could bring it back to Coran,” Hunk suggests. “Maybe find out what’s happening to him?”

“If it _is_ the spores I’m hoping it takes a whole lot of them to cause whatever this is,” Keith says, reaching for patience. He’s embarrassed and it’s making him irritable which isn’t Hunk’s fault. “Until we know for sure I’m not risking bringing this back to the ship. Lance took a face full of spores. I think it would be best to try and wait it out. If he gets better I’ll bring him back but even then we should remain isolated.” He tries to make his face look reassuring. 

“Just give it a few hours Hunk. I need to know if whatever happened to Lance could happen to everyone else if I bring him back. And I can’t leave him.”

Hunk chews on his lip but finally nods. “Okay. Keep in touch.” He moves Keith’s helmet closer before turning and heading for their lions. He glances back over his shoulder with a worried frown. 

Keith runs a hand up and down Lance’s trembling back. The water is freezing but Keith doesn’t think it has anything to do with Lance’s shaking.

“ _Duele,”_ Lance whimpers, his face pressed to Keith’s neck. _“Dios, ¿por qué duele?"_ he cries into Keith’s shoulder. A wave of hot needles sears into him and Lance cries.

“ _No mas,_ ” he pleads, shaking his head, “ _por favor no mas.”_ He sobs and Keith wraps his arms around Lance, petting his hair and whispering into his ear, desperate to protect. 

“Okay, okay, no one else. No one’s going to touch you again, I promise.” 

Lance shudders, holding him tighter, desperate for relief. 

“Lance, I _promise_.” He runs a hand down the back of his head, kissing Lance’s temple before he can think better of it. “No one else is going to touch you.”

Lance can’t stop shaking. Touching Keith helps but the pain is still building under his skin, still getting worse. Lance feels like he’s being cooked alive.

 _“Ayuda_.” 

Keith holds him tighter, one hand smoothing down his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swaying gently. “Stars, I’m so sorry.” Lance’s nails claw at his skin, leaving welts, trying to be free of the pain. Keith snatches his hands, trying to stop him, lacing their fingers together. He holds their hands to his chest, one arm looped around Lance’s waist. 

“Hold onto me. Lance. Hold onto me.” He lifts Lance’s free arm over his shoulder, holding him tightly. Lance clutches Keith’s hand, the other curling against his back, trying not to hurt the way he’d hurt himself. 

“You’re gonna be okay. I’m here, it’s okay.” Lance hides his tears against Keith’s throat. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that but the sky begins to darken, the sun warming Keith’s shoulders until they turn pink and then red under the glare. 

He doesn’t let Lance go. 

~

As the sky turns for the night the pain finally begins to abate, the haze in Lance’s brain fading just enough for him to form coherent sentences. Other than his nerves and his brain thinking he’s dying, he’s fine. 

Keith is freezing. Night has fallen on the planet and they’re still kneeling in the river, the water sliding down inside his undersuit, numbing him. His shoulders are burned but he’s covered in goosebumps, shivering periodically, his breath beginning to stutter.

Keith shifts around with a wince and Lance panics, clinging to him tighter.

“I’m not letting go,” he whispers, exhausted and cold, pulling Lance closer as if to prove it. 

“I just can’t feel my legs.” A small smile works its way into his voice. “I need to straighten them. You don’t have to let go okay?” Lance nods against his neck and Keith hooks one hand under Lance’s thigh to help lift him so he can stretch his legs out with a wince. 

Pins and needles prickle all up and down his legs and he grimaces as the blood starts working its way back through them. He settles Lance back in his lap, running his fingers along his lower back. 

_“Lo siento_ ,” Lance murmurs, tears still in his voice and Keith holds him tighter, smoothing a hand up and down his spine. 

“It’s okay.” His hands run up and down the length of Lance’s back, the touch seeming to help. “How bad is it?” He’s afraid to ask but he needs to know. “Can you tell me on a pain scale?” 

Lance shudders against him, swallowing repeatedly before he manages to form the word.

“ _Once.”_

“I don’t...I don’t know what that means.” 

Lance takes a shivering breath, the fingers on Keith’s back tapping out one by one until he reaches eleven. 

“Eleven?” Lance nods and Keith feels his stomach twist like a knife. He hugs Lance, wishing there was more he could do. 

“I’m sorry. Stars, Lance I’m so sorry.” Lance nods again and sniffles. “Is this helping? I don’t know what to do.” Keith’s never felt so useless in his life. 

Lance nods again. “ _Sí. Gracias.”_ He presses closer against Keith who raises his knees, pulling Lance as close as he can. “ _Lo siento.”_

“It’s okay.” Keith runs a hand over Lance’s hair. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.” He runs a hand over Lance’s arm. His skin is hot under Keith’s frigid palm. “You’re not doing anything wrong.” 

Lance shakes his head, adamant. “ _Odias cuando alguien te toca.”_

Keith has never wished he was bilingual more in his life. 

“I don’t understand,” he chokes out, frustrated and angry with himself, fingers still in Lance’s hair.

Lance shakes his head again. “ _Lo siento,”_ he says again and Keith presses a kiss to his hair. 

“I know. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He holds Lance in spite of his shivering and goosebumps, the heat of Lance’s skin scorching in contrast to the river. 

He tucks his nose into Lance’s hair, something gripping tight around his heart, desperate and hurt.

“I wish it were me,” he rasps, his breath stirring Lance’s hair, his heart reaching out for the blue paladin. “I hate it when you’re hurting.” His eyes squeeze shut, wishing he could take away Lance’s pain and he cradles him closer.

Lance’s fingers curl against Keith’s back, his nails sharp. One hand fists tightly over Keith’s spine, shaking, the other spreading wide and flat, pressed firmly against Keith’s skin, trying to relay something Keith doesn’t understand and Lance shakes his head against his throat. 

“No.” He shakes his head adamantly. “No.” 

Lance sits back though it seems to pain him to do so. His eyes are glossy and Keith presses a hand to Lance’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He can’t stop saying it, like somehow that will make everything better. 

Lance presses a hand over Keith’s on his cheek, turning his head to kiss Keith’s palm. 

“ _Esta bien mi querido_ ,” he murmurs, releasing Keith’s hand to tuck himself back against his chest. _“Esta bien.”_

Keith wraps his arms around Lance. He’s had goosebumps so long it physically hurts and he’s shivering every few seconds. 

“Will you let me take you back to the castle?” Keith chatters, the words broken between his teeth. “It’s been long enough. If whatever happened to you was going to happen to me, it would have done it by now.”

Lance pulls back, seeking Keith’s features as if he realizes it for the first time. He presses two fingers to Keith’s lips.

“ _Azul,"_ Lance whispers and Keith nods. He knows that one. 

“‘m cold,” he chatters. 

Lance frowns and presses back into Keith. It takes him a moment to realize Lance is trying to warm him up with the fever on his skin. 

He touches Lance’s hair. “Can you let me take you back?” 

Lance nods against his throat. 

“Okay. Hang on, I’m gonna try to get up onto the bank. I don’t think I can walk.” 

The pain has finally begun to ease its grip on Lance, leaving him exhausted and raw. He does what he can to help Keith get them out of the water without crawling out of his lap or letting go. 

Waiting for the feeling to return to his legs is painful but finally Keith is able to stand. 

Lance shakes, afraid they’re going to break contact. 

“Shh,” Keith soothes as Lance’s grip on him tightens. “You don't have to let go.”

Keith struggles under their combined weight as he cups one hand under Lance’s thigh, the other around his waist. He crushes Lance to his chest, sets his teeth and wobbles to his feet, thighs burning. 

He loops both arms under Lance’s hips before hooking the closest helmet with his foot. He lifts it up into one hand, trying to pull it on over his head, still supporting Lance. 

Lance takes it from him gently, helping Keith to pull it on with weak arms. 

“Thanks.” 

Lance nods, curling weakly back around Keith. 

“Castle of Lions, this is Keith, come in.”

A moment later there’s a faint noise and Shiro’s voice comes through into Keith’s ear. 

“ _Keith_?” He winces at the distress in Shiro’s voice. “ _Are you okay? We almost came down there when you didn’t answer but Hunk told us about the spores.”_

Keith nods as he starts walking, heading to their lions. 

“Yeah. I’m fine but Lance-” He struggles to explain. “I don’t know. He seems fine but he wouldn’t let Hunk touch him. He just screamed. He’s got a high fever even after sitting in the river for hours. I feel half frozen but he’s sweating in my arms.” 

There’s a brief pause before Pidge cuts in. “ _He’s in your arms?_ ” Keith can hear the teasing tone in their voice and doesn’t like it. 

He tightens his grip on Lance who’s all but dead weight in his arms. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I don’t think he can walk.” His stomach twists uncomfortably. “He’s in a lot of pain.”

“ _Can you tell me what happened?”_ Shiro asks.

“He got thrown into a wall, the visor of his helmet shattered and he fell face first into some kind of flower. There was a cloud of spores and he went scrambling out of the cave. He started clawing out of his armor and his undersuit and screaming.” 

He can practically hear Pidge thinking. 

“ _Wait, if Hunk can’t touch Lance without him screaming how are you carrying him,”_ they cut in again. 

Keith glances at the top of Lance’s head and wonders if he’s asleep.

“I don’t know. But it seems to help. I think it’s the only thing that does.” 

Keith can practically hear Shiro nodding thoughtfully. 

“ _Alright, what do you need us to do?_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dios, ¿por qué duele?” (It hurts. God why does it hurt?)  
> “Odias cuando alguien te toca.” (You hate when someone touches you.)


	2. Chapter 2

Keith does what he can to inform them all of what he knows as he makes it to Red. He keeps Lance cradled in his lap, sitting him sideways as he flies them back to the castle. Blue follows behind them, a thread of concern for the blue paladin touching Keith’s mind from both lions. They’re worried. 

“He’ll be okay,” Keith soothes, reassuring them both. He has to be.

~ 

When they get back to the castle Keith carries Lance into the medbay. His arms are burning by the time they get there but he won’t let any of the others touch him. 

Coran runs what scans he can without touching, a frown creasing his features. 

“What is it?” Hunk asks, worrying his hands. 

Coran makes a small hum. “Physically, there is nothing wrong with him. The spores are still in his lungs but they don’t appear to be causing any damage. They should vanish within a day or two. Mentally…” He lets out a deep sigh. “It appears his nervous system has been, mmm,” He pauses for a moment, seeking out the right word. “Flayed,” he finally settles on. 

“Lance is hypersensitive to physical stimulus.” He points to a scan of Lance’s brain that’s brighter than the rest. 

“That’s his parietal,” Pidge says. A moment later they wince. 

“Which means what exactly?” Allura asks. She hovers nearby, not sure what to do. 

Pidge looks between Allura to where Keith is sitting on the table, one hand stroking up and down Lance’s bare back. Their eyes lift to Keith’s. 

“It means he’s in a lot of pain,” they say softly. Keith can hear a touch of shame in their voice. He assumes it’s about the way they’d teased Keith over the comms previously. 

Coran nods. “Just so. I believe touch exacerbates Lance’s condition, given what we know.” 

“But then why can Keith touch him?” Hunk asks, crossing his arms in confusion. 

Coran brings up a second scan, pointing at it. 

“This is what you humans refer to as the pleasure center of your brains,” he says and Keith flushes. “It appears Keith’s touch activates this area and helps to combat the severe pain. Without it…” He pales and Pidge winces. 

“How do we know if it’s just Keith? Can we all not touch him or…” 

“There is one way to find out.” Allura sets her jaw and steps forward. 

“Don’t-”

Before Keith can stop her she’s putting a hand to Lance’s shoulder. He jolts awake like he’s being electrocuted, a bloody scream ripping out of him. It’s so loud and abrupt they all flinch. 

The scan of Lance’s brain flares as his parietal bursts with color and Shiro swears. 

“Stop it!” Keith slaps her away and Allura stumbles, more startled by Lance’s reaction than Keith’s slap. 

Lance is shivering, sobbing into Keith’s throat all over again, the upset nearly knocking them both to the floor. 

Keith immediately turns his face into the crook of Lance’s neck where he’s pressed close, whispering to him. 

“I’m sorry. _Ayuda_ Lance.” He covers Lance’s shoulder where Allura had touched him, stroking over it with bare fingers, hoping it will help. 

Lance’s sobs finally begin to quiet under Keith’s ministrations but he’s still curled small and tight. Keith glares at all of them from over Lance’s shoulder, arms wrapped protectively around him. 

“If any of you do that again I’ll break your fucking hand,” he growls. 

Shiro’s eyebrows lift in surprise but he doesn’t say anything. Pidge looks pale, sweat dappling their forehead and even Hunk looks like he’s going to be sick. 

Allura’s hand hover in front of her chest over her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, horrified by the sound Lance had made. He whimpers at the sound of her voice and Keith holds him tighter. 

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what,” Keith growls. “Didn’t believe me?”

“I was trying to help,” she snaps, finally lowering her hand and scowling. 

“Well you’re not.” Keith scoops Lance into his arms and hops off the table. He barely resists the urge to shoulder check Allura as he passes, if only because he’s afraid of Lance making contact. 

“Keith,” Shiro calls, “where are you going?”

“To bed,” he snaps. 

“And where will you put Lance?” 

Keith half turns to look at him as he reaches the door. “In my bed.” He flushes, half in embarrassment, half in anger. “I can’t exactly let go of him can I?” 

He storms out of the room, the little comforts he whispers into Lance’s hair impossibly soft for the rage still burning through him.

~

Keith doesn’t realize his plight until he gets them into his room. They’re both still in half their armor and Keith can’t put Lance down so they can change. 

“Lance?” He runs a hand up Lance’s back. “I need your help.” 

There’s a soft noise Keith takes for acknowledgement. He’s still shivering, quiet tears slipping down his cheeks. 

“I need to get us both changed. Can you stand behind me? That way you can press your chest to my back if you need it.” He blushes again, mortified. “That way I can change. I’ve got some shorts you can wear.” 

Lance nods slowly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna put you down.”

Lance’s legs slowly unlock from Keith’s waist, lowering to the floor. Keith helps support him as Lance stands. It takes him a moment to find his balance and Keith pushes damp hair out of Lance’s face. 

“You okay?” 

Lance shakes his head no but he stands on his own.

“I’m gonna turn around okay? Put your arms around my waist.” As he turns Lance’s hands slide over Keith’s skin, making him shiver. He strips out of what’s left of his armor, tossing it in a wet pile to one side of the room. Lance’s forehead comes to rest against the nape of Keith’s neck and Keith covers one of Lance’s hands with his own before pulling on a pair of boxers. 

He turns in Lance’s arms. “Okay, your turn.” 

~ 

Once Lance is stripped of his armor Keith walks them to the bed, Lance all but falling into it. Keith doesn’t know how he’s still standing. He hopes the pain has finally eased up given how quiet Lance is. He lets himself be pulled onto his side, Keith tucking himself behind Lance, keeping as much of them in contact as possible. 

“This okay?” He’s still cold down to his bones but Lance is warm. He doesn’t burn like he did but he still feels feverish. 

Lance nods sluggishly.

“Okay. Go to sleep,” Keith soothes. In a matter of minutes he is and Keith presses a kiss to his hair, tucking his face to the nape of Lance’s neck. He hopes things will be better in the morning.

~

When Keith wakes it’s to find Lance sleeping beside him. They’ve separated in the night, no doubt too hot under the covers with a second body. 

Lance’s features are creased in a frown, tension in his face. 

Keith tries to shake off his early morning fog and reaches out to touch Lance’s face. 

Lance startles, his eyes snapping open the moment Keith makes contact. He relaxes when he sees it’s Keith.

“Does it still hurt?” Keith asks softly, his hand on Lance’s rapidly warming cheek. 

Lance presses his face into the pillow to avoid looking at him. 

“No,” he whispers. Keith runs his thumb over Lance’s cheek before withdrawing his hand. 

“Good.” 

Keith tucks his hand against his chest but neither of them make a move to get up. 

Lance pinches the sheet in his fingers, rolling it. 

“You didn’t have to do that…” he murmurs, cheeks still warm but no longer with fever. “Last night.” He lifts his eyes to Keith’s. “The pain was letting up. It wasn’t as bad.”

Keith isn’t buying it. He knows Lance’s excuse voice. “Did it still hurt?”

Lance chews on the inside of his lip and looks away. “Yes,” he admits, still fiddling with the sheet. 

Keith shifts on the pillow, adjusting so his hair isn’t in his face. 

“Then I’m glad I was able to help.” 

Lance looks withdrawn, curled into himself towards the mattress like he’s hiding. 

“Why?” 

Keith frowns. “Because I care about you.” He sits up on his elbow, Lance still hiding. “I don’t care about a great number of people Lance, but you are one of them. 

“I know there’s friction between us sometimes but I like to think we’re still friends.” He doesn’t tell Lance his feelings may be a little stronger than he’s letting on. But it’s still the truth. 

“I want to help.” 

Lance chews on his lip, nodding. “Okay.” He finally sits up next to Keith who tries very hard not to stare at the little dips in his shoulder as the muscle flexes, traveling down to the swell of his bicep. 

Lance is slender but it looks like ropes of iron are moving beneath his skin. He’s all shoulders and Keith briefly wonders if Lance could bench press him over his head. Shiro used to do that to him for shits and giggles when he was younger. 

The idea had never been this attractive before. 

“Thank you.” 

Keith swallows dryly and turns away, feeling guilty for looking. Now is not the time. 

“You’re welcome.” He tugs the sheet off, climbing out of bed. He keeps his eyes averted.

“Go get a shower and some breakfast. It’ll make you feel better.” 

Lance rolls his eyes, some of his usual sass coming back. “Yes mom.” 

Keith flips him off before walking into the bathroom, a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

They thought it was over, that Lance was fine. And for a day he was. 

They’re in the middle of training when Lance stumbles. A wave of heat washes over him, pressure building behind his eyes and against his bones. It freezes him in place and he’s too stunned to block the punch Hunk sends at his head. 

It cracks across his helmet, spinning him around and he hits the ground. 

He’s dazed by the combination of the impact and the knives dragging over his skin. His attention snaps into focus with startling clarity as Hunk kneels beside him, pressing a concerned hand to his shoulder. Pidge hovers, their hands twisting together nervously. 

“Lance?” 

He spasms, the touch igniting the pain like gasoline on a fire. A scream builds in crescendo, starting in a painful whine until it tears free and he twitches on the ground, arching away from the touch. 

Shiro kneels beside them, one hand on Hunk’s shoulder. 

_“Deja!”_ Lance begs, sobbing in pain as Shiro touches him. His bones shatter, deep claws ripping out chunks of his flesh without rest. 

“Stop,” Keith whispers, staring at him wide-eyed. “Stop!” He forces himself between them, shoving Hunk and Shiro away. They draw their hands back and Lance goes limp, like a live wire running through him has been cut. 

He twitches against the floor, still sobbing. Keith pulls off his helmet, his hand on Lance’s waist. 

“Lance?” 

_“Diez_ ,” he cries. 

Hunk frowns. “Ten? Ten what?” 

Keith’s face falls. He sets his jaw, pulling Lance into a sitting position so he’s propped against Keith’s shoulder and pulls off his helmet. 

“We’re done,” Keith rasps, gathering Lance close. 

“I thought he was past this,” Shiro says softly. 

“Me too.” Keith runs his hand over Lance’s back, soothing away the worst of it until there’s nothing left but the blistering heat. 

“What do we do?” Hunk asks. 

Keith’s expression turns wan. “There’s nothing we _can_ do. We just have to wait it out.” He pulls Lance into his arms and stands. 

“We’ll be in my room if anyone needs us.”

Hunk and Shiro stand with him. 

“How long is it gonna last?” Pidge asks. 

Keith stops, looking at them, the expression pained. “The last one was six hours.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize ahead of time for this.
> 
> Also, fun fact. Yahoo apparently decided all my emails from Ao3 were spam so that was fun.

The pain begins to fade and with it Lance’s voice returns but it comes back in waves for the rest of the week, striking at the most inopportune moments. It’s agonizing and nearly takes Lance’s legs out from under him during a mission briefing. He leans heavily against the edge of a display, trying to bite back the pain. 

“Lance?”

Lance shakes his head, saying he’s fine but he can barely stand. He doesn’t want to delay the briefing but even speaking is difficult.

“You’re not.”

He clenches his teeth and glares at Keith from under his eyebrows. One hand is still looped protectively around his waist, the other hand pressing into the console, fingers curled tightly over the edge. 

“I can deal with it,” he grits out, more from pain than anger.

“But you don’t have to,” Keith says softly. He steps into Lance’s space to try and give them some semblance of privacy in spite of everyone watching. His face is open and compassionate. 

“I’m right here.” His eyes search Lance’s, gloved fingers coming to rest lightly against his on the console. 

“Let me help.”

He can see the pain clear in Lance’s eyes, glassy and desperate and finally Lance nods, giving in. 

He’s ashen. Sweat’s beading across his face under the helmet and he closes his eyes as Keith reaches out, removing it, trying to be gentle. Lance’s hair tufts adorably, curling against his forehead with damp as Keith sets the helmet on the console, placing his own down next to it. He steps into Lance’s space, one hand on his hip, tugging off a glove with his teeth. 

“Hang on.” His thumb traces little circles into Lance’s waist, working the glove off, unwilling to let go. Lance is leaning into him, trying to be patient but Keith knows it isn’t enough. 

He tries to hurry, finally spitting the glove out and pressing his hand to Lance’s cheek, drawing his face down to his own and pressing their cheeks flush. It’s the only skin on skin contact they can manage at the moment but it’s enough.

Lance melts with relief, his weight sagging into Keith, a deep sigh rushing out of him. His knees are shaking and he’s still leaning heavily into the console trying not to fall.

“It’s okay,” Keith whispers, both of Lance’s arms coming to circle his waist when he’s sure he isn’t going to fall. He leans into the heat of Keith’s skin with the faintest of whines, pressing closer.

“Shh,” Keith soothes, voice low enough for only Lance to hear. “It’s okay.” He smooths his hand over Lance’s cheek, threading into his hair. “I’m here.” 

Lance whines again, some tension Keith doesn’t really understand finally leaving him and Lance pulls him into a tighter hug. He squeezes his eyes closed, fighting back the tears as Keith’s bare fingers curl against the back of his head. 

The pain crests in a final wave and then eases and he lets out a breath, sagging into Keith who holds him up, letting him collect himself. Lance is embarrassed but relieved, body trembling.

Keith holds Lance’s face in his hands as he pulls away. “How bad?” 

Lance tries to look away but Keith won’t let him so he settles for averting his eyes, cheeks flushed. 

“Eight,” he finally murmurs and Keith’s heart sinks. He rubs little circles over Lance’s cheeks, his heart breaking.

“You don’t have to do that, to just- try and deal with it. I know it hurts.” He strokes a gloved thumb over Lance’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Please tell me next time,” he whispers, searching Lance’s eyes. “I want to help.” He cradles Lance’s face in his hands, voice barely more than a whisper. “Please let me help.” 

Lance nods, still not sure why Keith is offering but relieved to have a soothing balm against the pain. He closes his eyes, leaning into the weight of Keith’s hands, fingers curling loosely around his wrist.

“You okay?”

“No,” he manages, the ache still in his bones but fading. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, still wet with tears. “But I will be.” 

Keith nods. It’s not the answer he wants but it’ll do for now. “Okay.”

Lance presses his fingers to the inside of Keith’s naked wrist, his eyes vulnerable. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice is heavy with sincerity. Tears fill Lance’s eyes again but this time they’re not from pain. 

Keith finally withdraws, fingers hesitant to leave Lance, dragging against his cheek before he pulls away. He passes Lance his helmet and there are looks of concern all around. 

“I’m okay,” Lance reassures them, trying to smile as he takes his helmet from Keith. “Come on, we’ve got a mission to run.” He steps away from Keith, forcing a smile for the others and Keith realizes he hates it. He’s seen Lance do it a hundred times but only now realizes how much he despises it. Lance’s smiles should never be fake.

His eyes never leave Lance as he heads for the door. Their gazes meet briefly and he gives a shallow nod of thanks which Keith returns, hoping another wave doesn’t blindside them in the middle of the fight where Keith can’t help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm...sorry???


	5. Chapter 5

They’re not that lucky. Keith doesn’t know when it strikes but he does once they’ve formed Voltron. Lance’s pain is transmitted to all of them and each of the Paladins makes a collective sound of distress as it hits them. 

_“Lance?”_ Pidge stares at him wide-eyed on the screen. 

He’s grinding his teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. 

“‘m fine,” he grinds out. 

Pidge looks ready to cry. 

_“Lance-”_

“I’m fine,” he snaps, setting his jaw against the pain. “We have a job to do. Don’t worry about me.” 

Keith’s expression is strained and Lance’s eyes fall on him, soaking him in and hoping it will dull the pain. 

“Let’s get this done,” Lance manages, shoulders bowing under the rising heat. He looks back at Pidge. “You can’t help me,” he chokes. 

Shiro is the first to recover. _“Come on team, we’ve got a job to do.”_

~

Keith is already running down the ramp before it hits the ground of the docking bay. The fight had lasted an eternity, Lance’s breathing becoming more strained and labored the longer it went on. He’d stopped talking to them five minutes into their bond, all of them feeling Lance’s rising pain and panic, his desperation. 

Keith finally opened a private channel and just talked to him. It doesn’t assuage the pain but it does ease the panic and they all feel it when Lance cries. 

He’s halfway to Blue by the time Lance comes stumbling down the ramp. His helmet rolls across the ground, toppling out ahead of him. Keith has to watch as Lance’s legs tangle and he trips over himself, sliding the rest of the way down the ramp.

“Lance!”

He hits the ground and doesn’t get up.

Keith is by his side a moment later, dragging him up into his arms. “No, no, no, come on.” Lance’s face is ashen and there’s blood flecking his lips as Keith drags him into his lap, tearing off his own helmet. 

“Pidge! Help me get my armor off,” he shouts because they’re closest to him. Keith starts tearing into the latches of Lance’s armor, tossing it aside.

“What’s happening?” Pidge sounds as young as they are and Keith hates that he’s scaring them, but he doesn’t have time.

“Just do it! And don’t touch him.” 

Pidge finally kneels next to him, prying off Keith’s chest armor and then his vambraces, trying to steer clear of Lance. The breath rattles wetly in his chest as he stares up at Keith, eyes glassy but wide and afraid. Keith strips him to the waist, tearing free of his own undersuit and dragging Lance into his lap, pressing their chests flush. He’s slick with sweat and there’s a worrying pallor to his skin. Lance hasn’t looked this bad since it first happened; except this is worse. He’s never bled before.

“I’m sorry,” Keith murmurs, running his hands up and down Lance’s back. “Please be okay. Please, please.” He whispers it into Lance’s hair, petting him and hoping he’s not too late.

“I thought he was getting better,” Pidge murmurs and Keith looks at them, his own fear mirrored in their eyes.

“Me too.”

Hunk kneels down next to them, trying to gauge Lance’s breathing. “We should get him to Coran. He doesn’t look good.”

Keith nods, sliding one hand under Lance’s hips, the other around his back. Lance still hasn’t moved. His arms are limp over Keith’s shoulders but there are warm puffs of air against his throat so he knows Lance is still alive.

“Okay.” Keith struggles to stand under Lance’s weight but none of the others move to help him. 

Lance is sagged over Keith’s shoulders, body limp. His arms twitch out of his control as Keith carries him from the bay, whispering softly to him in a tangle of Spanish and English. 

It’s the only thing that seems to cut through the fear and the pain.

Lance doesn’t stir until Keith dips into Spanish, something he hasn’t spoken in years. What little he remembers from his childhood comes from his father’s endearments and words of reassurance after he’d had a bad day or a nightmare. And the few bits he’s caught Lance saying to Blue when he thinks no one’s around. 

“It’s okay _mi vida,_ ” he whispers. “ _Mi vida."_ He runs a hand up to Lance’s neck, holding it there. “ _Lo siento_ _cariño_.” He whispers the apology into Lance’s hair. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I shouldn’t have let you go.” Lance presses his face into Keith’s neck at the words, one of his hands weakly curling against Keith’s back. Keith holds him tighter. 

“Should have kept you with me.” He adjusts Lance’s weight in his arms. “Didn’t know another one would hit that fast. _Lo siento corazón." Lance’s_ fingers twitch against Keith’s back, curling against his skin.

“... _t_ _á_ _bien_ ,” Lance slurs and Keith holds him tighter. He feels Lance’s tears wet his shoulder. It’s a sensation he’s growing uncomfortably used to. 

“ _Lo siento Azul._ ”

Lance finally finds the strength to wrap his arms around Keith’s shoulders, loose and awkward but it’s something. 

When they reach the medical bay it takes a great deal of coaxing to get Keith to let him go, laying Lance out on a table so Coran can run a full body scan. He stands next to the table, one hand wrapped around Lance’s inner arm, fingers tight around his bicep, trying to maintain as much skin contact as possible. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Shiro asks, watching as Coran pulls up an orange duplicate of Lance’s chest, a number of holographic images and words filling the air. 

Coran twirls his mustache before grabbing a stimulant, administering it. 

“It would seem whatever spores he’s been exposed to are far more lethal than I first realized.” His eyes are heavy. “I am sorry.” 

Lance tries to smile but there’s still blood in his mouth. 

“How did we not know this?”

Coran sighs. “Well, he hasn’t been without extended contact for this long before,” Coran surmises. “It appears without contact the spores turn on the host, attacking the lungs. We knew his fever spiked but not about this. 

“We’ve been asleep for ten thousand years, I’m afraid our libraries are severely out of date. We can’t be expected to know everything.” 

“This seems kind of important,” Shiro seethes. 

“Shiro.” Keith looks up, fingers still stroking ceaselessly over Lance’s skin. “It’s okay. He’s right. Based on what we’ve seen he had no reason to suspect it would get this bad. Or that another wave would hit so soon. None of us did.” His grip on Lance tightens as he listens to the sound of Lance’s ragged breathing. 

Shiro crosses his arms. “So what do we do? It’s not like we can put him in the pods.”

“You said this comes and goes in waves?” Coran asks, studying the damage to Lance’s lungs. 

Keith nods. “I didn’t expect the second one to hit so fast. The first pair were almost a day apart.”

“Well, it seems close contact is preventing further damage and his vitals are stabilizing but I’m concerned about the amount of damage present. So long as we keep a close eye on him it should be alright.”

“No, no way. What if another one hits when he’s in there?” Shiro argues but Keith keeps his attention on Lance.

He smooths Lance’s hair back. “Has it passed?” he asks softly, the words meant only for Lance.

Lance nods. He looks exhausted but more coherent than before. 

“Okay.” He turns to Coran. “The wave is over. Do it. The longer we wait the more likely it is another one will hit.” His grip on Lance’s arm tightens, fear gripping his heart. “Think you can do that?”

Lance swallows thickly and nods. He looks tired. 

Keith lets the back of a finger brush against Lance’s face. He helps him sit up, never breaking contact. 

“Think you can walk?”

Lance’s fingers flex and curl around Keith’s arm where they’re still touching. 

“Really don’t wanna,” he rasps, wiping a hand over his mouth. 

Keith steps back between his knees and Lance automatically wraps his arms around his shoulders, letting Keith lift him from the table. 

“Okay. Let’s get you to the cryo room and into a pod.” 

Lance doesn’t argue, just lets himself be babied. It takes him a long time to let go of Keith’s hand once he’s finally in the pod.

Keith stands next to it the entire time and doesn’t move until Lance is out again. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'll put you out of your misery.

The last wave happens in the middle of the night, dragging Lance into wakefulness, skin slick with sweat. This time he doesn’t hesitate to search out Keith. Every step feels like hot needles working into his joints but it doesn’t stop him from stumbling into Keith’s room, looking for help. He goes much more willingly since the incident in the lions. 

Keith startles as the door hisses open and then on realizing it's Lance pulls him into the bed, dragging off his shirt and tangling them both together without comment. Lance sighs in relief, Keith pressing a kiss to his forehead, smoothing back his hair.

Lance is exhausted, the pain blindsiding him without warning and dragging him awake before he had a chance to sense it coming. 

“Six,” he rasps before Keith can ask. Better, but still debilitating. His eyes flutter, his body heavy in the bed and Keith presses another kiss to his forehead, like it’s natural.

“Why do you do that?” he whispers and Keith goes rigid, his hands stuttering to a stop over Lance’s skin. 

He’s terrified and his breathing shallows. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice comes out weaker than he wants. 

Lance ducks his head, pressing closer, almost inviting Keith to kiss his forehead again. “No,” he whispers. 

Keith slowly relaxes, dipping his head to Lance’s hair and presses a cautious kiss to his forehead again. His fingers run idle patterns over Lance’s skin, ceaseless in his ministrations. 

“You don’t have to go back,” Keith ventures, fingers slipping under Lance’s shirt. 

“Hmm?” Lance blinks awake again, half lidded eyes blearily focusing on him. 

“You can stay here. You don’t...have to go back.” His eyes dart between Lance’s. “Once the wave is gone.” His fingers twitch anxiously over Lance’s ribs. “I want you to stay,” he finally manages. 

Lance kisses Keith’s chin and his heart skips, Lance tucking himself against Keith’s chest. “Thank you.” 

~

Keith runs his fingers idly through Lance’s hair until his breathing deepens. His mouth goes slack against Keith’s chest, his weight settling more deeply against him. He’s always exhausted after a wave, no matter how brief. 

Keith gently tucks Lance’s hair behind his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, resting a hand on Lance’s head. “I should have taken better care of you.” His mouth pulls into a disappointed frown and he hugs Lance gently so as not to wake him. 

“I’ll do better,” he promises.


End file.
